Cruel to be Kind
by MoonClaimed
Summary: The definition of betrayal is called into question as Ichigo discovers he's more than he ever dreamed. What if to protect someone it is necessary to rip away that which is most precious?
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach. That honor belongs to people a lot smarter and more talented than me.

This is the prologue to a story I've had on my mental back burner for over a year now (Really, it's the sum of three distinct plot bunnies, but shh; don't tell anyone). I'm very interested in **_any_** reaction anyone may have to it, and if I evoked the emotions I had hoped as it is read. This will probably turn out to be epic length (with much longer chapters to come).

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Kurosaki Ichigo snapped into consciousness to find himself staring up at an unfamiliar white ceiling, bright lights glaring down into his oddly sensitive eyes. He squinted in a vain attempt to clear his vision, but even then his view of the world remained unfocused and his ears rung with the insistent beat of his own heart. He realized distantly that he was lying on a slightly bumpy mattress with only thin starched sheets keeping away the chill air.

Once his sluggish mind processed these stray bits of information he tensed in the bed, then groaned as his entire body protested even that slight movement. When the ache died down enough for him to again focus on the world beyond his own skin, he worked to prop himself up on his elbows to gain a better vantage point to assess his surroundings.

And failed miserably.

It wasn't until he had attempted the larger movement that he noticed the weakness in his limbs. Experimentally, he fisted the stiff sheets in one hand, but the action only served to unnerve him further. His grip wouldn't even be strong enough to lift the light covers. And that was assuming his arm had the strength to even attempt such a maneuver.

Ichigo clamped down on his rising panic, trying vainly to bring his harsh breathing under some semblance of control. _'This isn't good. I'm way too vulnerable like this; my whole torso's exposed. Damnit, what if someone attacks!-" _Ichigo's racing mind immediately screeched to a halt. _'…Why would I think something like that? What the hell's going on with me?'_

Heart in his throat, Ichigo made a concerted effort to relax back into the mattress beneath him. With his goal—figuring out his location—still firmly in mind, he did the simplest thing he could think of. Beyond even the point of trying to turn his neck, he just let his head roll limply to the side.

It was a fair sized room, he assessed quickly, with other beds—all empty—spread over most of the floor. A privacy screen stood open around his cot. It took him a few beats to realize he was in his father's clinic. It was a new perspective for him—he had never laid in one of the patients' beds before.

'_Why am I down here_?' Ichigo wondered, aching to run a hand through his hair as was his usual habit but finding himself too tired to bother_, 'I always stay in my own bed when I get sick.'_

He tried to shift his position again only to realize with a start that there were wires connected to his chest. Wires that hooked up to the heart monitor beeping steadily at his side.

Well, that explained that, then.

'_I don't understand… What happened? Why's all this necessary? Did I get in an accident? Did one of those gangs finally get the drop on me? I hurt all over, but I don't feel like I'm actually _injured_ anywhere….' _He made the effort to smile feebly, _'Oh man, is this going to be one of those things where I pull the blankets aside and realize my leg's been amputated?' _The poor joke did little to cheer him. Contrary to Orihime's opinion, he'd never been very funny.

He tried to puzzle through the situation, but now that he had noticed the insistent bleating of the heart monitor past the white noise in his ears he was hard pressed to focus on anything else. And the noise was beginning to make his head throb behind his temples.

Furrowing his brows against the pain, he weakly reached up to his chest and pulled the wires free. His efforts were rewarded with a screeching flat-line that only succeeded in aggravating his head further.

With a tired groan he reached deep inside himself for the strength necessary to clap his hands over his ears and wait it out. It had to stop eventually, right?

His half-desperate question was answered not by the end of the mechanical wail, but with the sound of pounding footsteps.

Just as Ichigo craned his neck in the direction of the sound, the interior clinic door crashed against the wall and his father's form came barreling through. The man was moving at such speed that he slid several feet in the direction he had initially been running before tripping over his own feet as he spun and continued forward in his mad dash to reach him.

Isshin skidded to a halt at the foot of his son's bed when he noticed that the boy was conscious.

"Ichigo!" came the cry, followed shortly by all six feet and two hundred twenty pounds of the man as he threw himself at the convalescent teen.

Ichigo moved to shove the larger man away—violently—only to still as he realized that this wasn't just another of his father's usual brand of overly affectionate embraces.

The last time his father had hugged him so tight… it had been on that horrible night when he was nine. He had been sitting—shivering in some bright room he could never quite recall and never cared to, still soaked to the bone in frigid rainwater and his mother's bright red blood—when his father had swooped down on him like a mad thing. Had grabbed him up and held him so tightly against his body that it almost hurt, that he could feel the furious, unsteady pounding of his father's heart—as if the man had known that his son was liable disappear on the next slight breeze except for the strength in his own two arms.

Slowly, as he had on that night all those long years past, Ichigo brought his hands up…and clung back.

All the while, the heart monitor continued it's mournful wail.

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	2. When Up is Down

A/N: Hey everybody and welcome to another chapter! I hope you enjoy.

A/N2: I don't want to be annoying, but this story officially has more alerts than reviews. And while it's absolutely amazing to know that people want to read my story, I'd also like to know more directly what you guys think about what I've written. Constructive criticism is the only thing that will help this story to improve, so please: leave a quick comment.

Chapter one: When Up is Down

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"Hello, is-? Yes, I'll hold. Thanks."

A staccato rhythm tapped out by nervous fingers.

"Hey… Yes, it's working. He has no clue."

A beat of silence.

"You should complete it as soon as possible, that way it will be over with before further complications can arise."

The dull thud of a body collapsing heavily into a chair.

"Tomorrow? Yes, that's fine. I'll see you then."

The soft click of a phone being put down. A deep sigh.

"I'm so sorry, Ichigo…"

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The sky outside was a nearly perfect shade of blue—deep azure above but fading rapidly to palest teal in the distance. Already the gibbous moon hovered over the horizon, and the faint breeze played joyfully with branches and leaves as it passed by.

Ichigo didn't see any of these things, though he stared out through his bedroom window fixedly and had been for some time. His mind was consumed by thoughts more troubling than idle curiosity over the cycles of the moon or the exact shade of blue in the sky.

What had happened? Why was he still so tired three_ days_ after waking up in the clinic? And, most troubling by far, when had Karin and Yuzu grown so tall?

His father had explained it all to him of course. Isshin had sat with him and told him over and over what had happened, as many times as he needed to hear it. He answered all his confused questions and displayed a level of patience Ichigo had never dreamed the eccentric man capable of.

None of that made what he heard any easier to accept.

These were the facts: he had been sick. Deathly sick. He had spent the last five months in the hospital in the long-term ward. And then, just when everyone had given up hope for his recovery, there was news of a trial for a new experimental treatment, and—as it was his last hope—his father had snatched up the chance. And it had worked. Multiple blood tests had shown he was well on his way to recovery, but…

But of course it hadn't been as simple as that. He had reacted negatively to the drug: it had caused severe seizures, coma, and, as they had discovered upon his waking, memory loss.

And he had been one of the lucky ones. Many of the patients who had received the drug had died, their bodies unable to handle the effects of the drug after the trauma of the protracted illness it was designed to cure. In fact, he was the only one from Karakura Community Hospital that had survived the reaction.

He grunted and turned from the window, focusing instead on his hands where they lay fisted in his lap.

'_Damn it. Sulking about it isn't going to change anything; I should just move on already. Try to put what's left of my life in order. Besides_,' he thought determinedly, '_Goat Chin said the memory loss might get better_.' What his doctor-father had actually said was that the memory loss was probably a side effect of the mild brain damage he had suffered because of a lack of oxygen while he was seizing, and that at his age his brain was still elastic enough that it might improve—but he was trying to make himself feel better, not worse.

He grunted again and turned on his side. At this point he'd settle for anything, even a single vague recollection of anything that happened in the past eight months—the part of his life the drug had stolen from him.

He let his head sag into his pillow and ran a tired hand through his hair. '_I shouldn't be so bitter. The treatment might have stolen a few months' worth of memories from me, but it also gave me the chance to live to a ripe old age and make more_.'

He was broken out of his thoughts by Yuzu's voice; she called his name from where she stood at the side of his bed. Once she had his attention, she smiled softly and took his hand in her small fingers.

"Hey, Ichi-ni. Are you feeling any better?" Not wanting to worry her with complaints of his still weak limbs, he nodded an affirmative. He was rewarded with a broad grin. "That's great! You'll be up in no time now!"

Yuzu had been hovering worriedly over him since he woke from his weeklong coma. Karin, in contrast, had adopted the habit of hanging back in the corners of his room and seemed uncomfortable meeting his eyes. But then there were the times she would fling herself at him and refuse to let go, sometimes for hours at a time. Goat Chin hadn't been much better.

Sometimes he felt like he had failed them. By causing them all to worry so much about him, by still being a source of such worry, by not being strong enough…

"Oh!" Yuzu exclaimed, breaking Ichigo's train of thought for a second time in as many minutes, "I forgot to tell you why I came here to start with! Daddy's finally letting your friends come over to visit you!"

Ichigo stared dully for a moment. "What?"

Yuzu blinked at her brother, her smile faltering at the edges. "Your friends, Ichi-ni. Daddy wouldn't let them come over when you first woke up because he thought you needed rest, but now he says you're well enough for visitors." The small girl brightened at the mention of her sibling's increasing health. "They should be here in a half hour or so. They've been really worried."

Ichigo carefully forced a reassuring smile onto his face as Yuzu skipped from the room, but he let it drop as soon as the door closed behind her. Collapsing against his pillows he thought morosely, '_Great. More people that I've worried sick. Aw, hell, at least it'll be good to see Chad, Keigo, and Mizuiru again. Maybe Tatsuki will even drop by_.'

With those heartening thoughts in mind, he let himself fall into a light doze while waiting for his visitors.

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The sun was warm on the side of his face, but the cold breeze raised goose bumps along his arms regardless. Groggily, Ichigo reached up to wipe the remnants of sleep from his eyes and cracked his jaw in a yawn. He rolled over onto his back and opened his eyes.

"Hmm…it's kind of cloudy today," he mumbled sleepily before letting his eyes drift shut again. A moment passed before Ichigo furrowed his brows and decided he was missing something obvious, then jerked upright to stare towards the sky.

"Where the fuck is my ceiling!?"

After several minutes of horrified gaping, Ichigo ran a hand through his sleep-mussed hair. "I swear, if Dad did this as some kind of-" and that was when he noticed that not only was his ceiling missing, but so were his walls. And his floor for that matter. And his bed. Instead he seemed to be sitting on…glass? No, a window. A sideways building?

"Dad didn't drug me again, did he?"

He slowly got to his feet, half afraid his shifting weight would break the glass beneath him and he'd fall (sideways?) into the building. Once he was sure his footing was secure, he glanced up again and realized that the clouds were drifting vertically across the sky.

"Well, Dad did say I was brain damaged or something, right? I guess this makes about as much sense as anything else." He was tempted to put the entire episode down to dreaming, but the glass had been too sheer under his hands, the wind too cool on his face for that.

"So…brain damage." His eye twitched violently, "I'm going to sue that damned hospital!"

After glaring angrily at the world for several eerily silent moments, he let his hands relax from the fists they had formed at his sides. He took a few deep breaths and then attempted a wild stab at optimism. "At least I have the strength stand here." It only served to depress him further.

Tired of standing still, he slowly approached the edge of the glass tower and leaned precariously over the side to see what was out there (below him?).

It was more of the same. Of course, in this instance that meant more sideways skyscrapers, reaching out as far as his eye could see in every direction. Somewhat fascinated he stepped forward…into empty air.

He pinwheeled his arms wildly, trying to regain his balance, but was unable to. Just as he inhaled—so he would be able to scream as he plummeted to his death—he was yanked backwards to safety by the scruff of his collar.

"Careful the'e, King. Wouldn' wan' ya gettin' hu't."

The voice was odd, high-pitched and strangely familiar, but his heart was pounding too loudly for him to focus on what was being said, let alone the voice that said it.

"Hey," Ichigo turned to look over his shoulder, "Thanks for-"

The world froze, then cracked down the middle.

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Ichigo woke up panting, wide-eyed, and clutching at his chest. Those _eyes_…

"Ich-iiii-goooooo!"

Without looking, or even thinking, Ichigo instinctively raised a fist, which Keigo proceeded to smash into face first.

The bedridden teen let a smirk stretch across his face as he stared down at his friend's crumpled form. "It's nice to know some things never change."

"Ichigo!" Keigo cheered as he sprung back to his feet, "Your dad says you're almost all better! You know what this means?"

Ichigo blinked in response. "I…have to go back to school?" he hazarded to guess.

"No," Keigo looked vaguely insulted at the notion, but quickly regained his grin, "Beach trip celebration par-tay!" the enthused teen crowed, flinging his arms wide and smiling broadly.

"…Right. You do that."

Mizuiru pushed his sidekick's wilted form away from the bed to have his own chance to speak with his friend.

The short boy clapped Ichigo on the shoulder. "We're all really glad you're feeling better."

"Yes," Chad added seriously as he moved to Mizuiru's side, "You should take it easy for a while after this."

Ichigo smiled in answer and began, "Yeah, I-"

No longer able to hold herself back, Orihime pounced. She attached herself to his side with a cry of, "Kurosaki-kun!"

Unsure of what to make of the girl on his arm, Ichigo stammered for a bit and blushed to the tips of his ears.

"H-hey, Inoue." That was odd, he hadn't expected her to come…

"That's enough Orihime," Tatsuki said, pulling the taller girl from Ichigo's side and patting her head lightly, "You don't want to give the boy a heart attack after everything else."

"Yes," a new voice spoke, "his father probably wouldn't appreciate that."

At the unfamiliar voice, Ichigo turned to see a skinny boy with glasses at the back of the group gathered around his bed.

"Um… Do I know you?" Ichigo asked awkwardly.

Everyone froze.

Then the boy who had been addressed meet his eyes and nodded faintly.

"Of course, how silly of me. Kurosaki-san mentioned you suffered from memory loss. My name is Ishida Uryu. My father is a doctor at the hospital you stayed in; I meet you while I was waiting for him about four months ago."

Keigo looked confused, "But, Ishida, you've been in our class for two years…"

"Oh calm down," Tatsuki said dismissively, "you know how Ichigo is with faces. There's no way he would have recognized him from school."

"Hey!"

Everyone shared a laugh at the orange-haired boy's expense.

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"Feel better, Kurosaki-kun!" Orihime called cheerfully as she shut the door behind herself. With the door firmly closed she hesitated a second longer before releasing the cold metal of the door handle, and then slowly turned around to face the others.

The smiles that had been gracing every face as they waved their goodbyes were gone now, replaced with heavy silence.

"I don't like this," Ishida said quietly.

"Shut up," Tatsuki grated out, voice barely a whisper, "You think any of us do?"

Chad, for the first time in years, had to actively restrain himself from punching through the nearest wall with one of his large fists. "Seeing Ichigo like this… Is it really-"

"Yes, " Orihime cut in and then made sure to meet each individual's eyes, if only for a second. "It doesn't matter how we feel. We… We have to do what's best for Kurosaki-kun."

And that was that.

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	3. The Games They Play

A/N: Hey everyone! I'm back with another chapter! So, I want to clear a few things up that some reviewers asked about (I love you guys, so don't be shy if something isn't clear!).

First, this story will not focus on any particular pairing, at least not any more then the manga itself does. Orihime still has a crush on Ichigo, Renji still likes Rukia, and everyone else is still confused and/or overtly vague in their affections.

Second, this story takes place after the Winter War (I'll explain in more detail as the plot moves forward), and Tatsuki, Keigo, and Mizuiru were at least minimally involved.

Also, a short but sweet **S.O.S.**: Hichigo's accent is giving me grief. I think I finally managed it all right, but if something is wrong with it, please tell me and I'll try to fix it up some more.

And a **HINT**: for those dying to know where I'm steering this crazy thing, pay close attention for subtle foreshadowing in this chapter and remember the _summery_.

And without further ado, please enjoy:

Cruel to be Kind: Chapter two: The Games They Play

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"Have you done as you said?"

"Yeah. It will be finished soon."

"You seem uneasy. Remember that though it may seem unkind, it is imperative that the matter is resolved."

"I know. That's the only reason I let you drag me along with this scheme of yours, but at this point shouldn't we at least tell-?"

"No."

"I don't-"

"No. I forbid it. He gave up the right to know our movements when he left here."

"That hardly-"

"If you tell him, you compromise all that has been done. It's far too late for second thoughts now."

"…Yes."

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"Come on, Ichigo," Isshin smiled into his son's scowling face, "Daddy's going to put you under for a little while!"

Ichigo pressed himself further back into his mattress and furtively wondered if his father had finally cracked. "You say that as if I should be excited. Besides, why exactly would you do that?"

"Stupid son!" the man exclaimed before pounding the boy on the shoulder, "In preparation for your doctor's visit, of course!"

"Oh crap. He really has lost it," Ichigo muttered, inching ever so slowly away from the deranged man. Louder he added, "And why would you knock me out just so you could do a check up?"

His father peered at him strangely, "Well…I wouldn't."

Ichigo sighed in exasperation and rolled his eyes. That teenage reflex out of the way, he turned back to look at his father. However, one glance had him jumping three feet in the air and—upon landing—scrambling back against his headboard as Isshin proudly presented him with a four-inch syringe.

"What the fuck is that!?"

Isshin's smile was back full force. "A mild sedative!" He contemplated the needle for a minute, rubbing at his stubble with his free hand. He shrugged, "Depending on your definition of 'mild,' anyway."

"But you just said you didn't need to knock me out!"

"No, I didn't." A large hand attached itself to the teen's forehead. "Ichigo, are you feeling all right? Is your fever coming back?"

Angrily batting the hand away, Ichigo glared mutinously and muttered something to the tune of, "And he says _I'm_ the one with brain damage…"

Isshin put his hands on his hips and shook his head at his son's foolishness. "My dear, silly, First Born, I said I wouldn't have to knock you out if _I_ was the one doing the check up. But I'm not. So night-night!"

Once again working—and failing—to remove himself from his father's groping hands, the boy tried to reason with the psychopath. Apparently he forgot who he was dealing with.

"Wait a minute, wait a minute! What do you mean you're not the one doing the check up? Who's doing it? And why do I—_Get that thing the fuck away from me!_—why do I need to be unconscious for a medical exam?" he shot off quickly.

Isshin pulled back slightly, just enough to study his son's face. "One of the doctors that was in charge of the trial is making rounds to all of the surviving patients. They want to compile a list of any complications the drug caused." Isshin's face grew uncharacteristically grave, his eyes steely. "Not that I care what they want for whatever's left of their research. What's important is that the man who is coming has already visited several other patients, and he should recognized if you are expressing any side effects that other patients are displaying that I'm too close to the situation to see."

Ichigo met his father's eyes, then ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Fine."

"Good! Night-night, my manly son!" Isshin tittered happily before lunging at the convalescent boy, needle aimed and ready.

"Wait!"

"Wha-at?" The man whined, impatiently bouncing from foot to foot.

"You didn't tell me why I need to be unconscious. Wouldn't it make more sense if he could, I don't know, talk to me instead of just watch me sleep?"

"Hmm. You do make a good point. But at the same time-" Isshin's eyes shifted to focus just behind Ichigo's head and he gasped, "What is that!?"

Ichigo whipped around but saw nothing. "What's what-" he began, but then felt a tight, burning pinch in his upper arm and everything went black.

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Isshin tenderly lowered his son's limp form back into his bed and ruffled the boy's bright hair fondly. That done, he straightened and spoke into the empty air, "He raised a good point. Did we really have to knock him out?" Isshin's face turned comically upset, "These sedatives are expensive, you know?"

The closet door behind Isshin banged open, and Urahara Kisuke casually stepped out. "It was the only way," the store manager intoned gravely.

Isshin turned to the other man and blinked several times. "Really?"

"Nah," he waved his hand dismissively, "I just love making an entrance." Then the man's shoulders drooped, and he sighed deeply. "It really is for the best though. He shouldn't come into contact with anyone who he knows solely through his interactions with Soul Society."

"I know that!" Isshin snapped, "That's why we've told him half the things we have and half the things we're going to. And why I…" He trailed off, his sudden, instinctive anger slowly draining from his face. The father let out a long, slow sigh and ran a hand through his hair. "I just want this to be over with. The sooner it's taken care of, the sooner we can try to put it all behind us. My children deserve better than the hell they've been put through."

Isshin covered his eyes with one tired hand. "With that in mind, are you sure this is for the best? Having him regain partial memories… Is the pain it will cause him really worth it?"

Urahara moved to stand at Isshin's side and stared down at the orange-haired teen laid out on the bed. "Unfortunately, it's necessary. You know your son, Isshin. I'd say breaking the seal we put on his memories is utterly 'impossible,' but that word doesn't exist for him. If he's determined to get his memories back, I wouldn't put it past him to do it. Making him believe that he is recovering is the best way to deter him from actually doing so."

With that the shopkeeper turned to Isshin with a mad gleam in his eye that would make any half-sane father uncomfortable. "Well, let's get to work."

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"Ya really gotta stop wanderin' in her', King. Ever'body went through all that trouble—'cause ya were too fuckin' _weak_—and yer gonna go an' ruin it all."

Hichigo stood staring off into the far distance of his (literally) topsy-turvy world, his back toward his recently arrived king.

"Besides, I'm gettin' tired of ya droppin' in ta visit withou' callin' first, King. Ya never know, I migh' 'ave been busy." He chuckled, a high, parched sound.

The hollow made no move to turn and look at the Other, but the sun burned bright and harsh in his eyes and the wind blew in small cyclones down below their perch. It seemed King was in an odd mood.

"King, did ya ever…" the hollow went quiet and balled his hands into fists, then released them with a rough snort of air. "Ah, wha' the hell. Ya don' 'ave a fuckin' clue wha's goin' on anyway, I can add ta it a little and ge' m' kicks.

"So," he started again, "now tha' ya don' know wha's what, I'm gonna tell ya somethin'.

"We're more the same than ya believe, King." He paused, considering his words. "Well, than ya believed before…" He gestured vaguely with one flippant hand. Then the hollow snorted. "Although I suppose the way ya look at us is m' fault.

"Ya see, I'm differen' than Zangetsu, and I don' mean 'cause he's shinigami and I'm hollow. See, Zangetsu is a sword." The pale boy rolled his eyes, "Seems obvious, I know. Bu' he's a _sword_. Yer sword maybe, a piece of ya that reflects yer will to fight, but still jus' a sword.

"Me? I'm differen'. I'm more than that." A strange smile grew over his ghostly face as he watched the slowly rolling clouds, and as he spoke his voice slowly lost the accent he affected. "I didn't lie to you when I said I was a piece of your power—you _do_ steal power from me, you bastard—but I'm not like the old man because I'm not a _piece_ of you. I'm _all_ of you. Just, you know, if you were a hollow. " He kicked a small piece of rubble off the edge of his perch and watched it's tumbling flight down to the ground far below. "I'm as much 'Kurosaki Ichigo' as the hollow that was Inoue's brother was 'Inoue Sora.'

"What I'm saying is: I have just as much right to 'life' and control of this body as you do, King. Because I _am_ you. Maybe not a you that you like much, but that doesn't change anything.

"And you don't have to worry about your friends around me—don't even _mention_ Yuzu, Karin, and Goat Chin—because they're my friends too. I care about them just as much. Hollow's still love, you know? That's why lesser hollows go after people they cared about in life. If they didn't love them any more, there'd be nothing tying them together. And I'm not some wimpy lesser hollow that can't think past his own stomach. I might not _want_ to control myself most of the time, but I damn well _can_."

With that said he came back to himself with a start and snapped out in his usual drawl, "So I'll let ya 'ave this time, King. I won' throw ya off yer throne when ya don' even know yer on it." He huffed, "I s'pose I'm more like ya than even _I_ thought, 'cause takin' down an opponent from behind don' sit righ' with me."

His fists clenched and his reiatsu spiked. "Bu' don' think this is the end, King-y. Like I said, I'll let ya 'ave this time, bu' the _moment_ ya die there's gonna be a new horse 'round he'e. Got me?"

After several moments of steady silence, Hichigo snorted, "Well, wha' do ya think, King? I'd'a figured a bigmouth like you would 'ave more ta say." When no answer was forthcoming, Hichigo slowly turned around and looked at where Ichigo lay spread eagle on the glass floor, staring up at the sky. He hadn't moved since he'd arrived to his inner world.

"…Yer all drugged up, aren'cha ya, King?" Hichigo asked, resigned. The orange haired boy just smiled up at his pale counterpart, happy as a proverbial clam.

"For tha' crap to mess with ya in yer inner world… Tha's defiantly no ordinary sedative." The hallow considered Ichigo seriously for a moment, then squatted down to lean over his prone form. "Bet'cha it's from tha' bastard shopkeeper's stash o' goodies."

"Ha, ha…muffins," Ichigo slurred out—his first words of the whole encounter.

"Damn, how much o' tha' shit did th' old man give ya, anyway?" A decidedly girlish giggle was all the answer he got.

"Too much, apparently." Hichigo bent lower over his king, assessing his silly grin and dilated pupils. "_Way_ too much."

"You're purrty," Ichigo announced. "An' white," he added, then came up short, as if coming to a sudden, life-altering realization about the world and everything in it. "And you're white! Like a kitty!" Ichigo pouted up at his Other and lifted a hand, grasping ineffectually at the air several inches in front of the hollow's face, "I want a kitty…"

Hichigo stared in gape-jawed horror for several long moments. "…Damn ya, Hat-an'-Clogs! Damn ya ta Hell!" Hichigo shouted and shook a fist up at the uncaring sky, before he surrendered himself to the inevitable and slumped dejectedly.

"M' whole speech was wasted…"

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Ishida wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his hand and glanced over to the others.

Chad stood in a defensive position at the back of the group, rubbing his thoroughly worked arm and looking for the next hollow to target. Orihime stood a few feet in front of him, healing the painful but harmless scratches Mizuiru had gotten on his palms when the latest hollow—a cat-like monstrosity—had thrown him. The Quincy turned to look over his other shoulder and groaned audibly when he realized Keigo was poking what was left of the slowly disintegrating beast with a stick.

"This isn't good enough," Tatsuki griped to no one in particular.

"Tatsuki, why do you say that?" Orihime, now finished with her healing, stepped closer to the other girl. "We've defeated five hollows already tonight. I think that's more than we ever have before at one time."

Tatsuki just shook her head without even looking at the other girl. "That's only because there are more hollows around then there used to be."

It was true. The number of hollows in Karakura had been increasing ever since Ichigo's reiatsu levels had begun to rise when he first met Rukia. But their presence had more than doubled since…

Ichigo had so much raw reiatsu at this point that it saturated the air around the whole town, and—now that he didn't even remember what reiatsu_ was_—it went completely uncontrolled and unrestrained, broadcasting to every hollow in sniffing distance that not only was there a particularly tasty little morsel nearby, but that it was an _easy target_.

"And," Tatsuki continued, "while we're all over _here_, there's probably another of the suckers lurking across town."

Ishida pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and asked, "Then what do you propose we do?"

"Split up!" The girl shouted, "Cover more ground! Even now that you're deigning to involve us in these hunts, you're still treating us like babies! How are we supposed to protect Ichigo and keep these slimy little bastards away from him if we don't even form a perimeter around his house?"

"I agree with Tatsuki," Keigo added, voice even and low. When Orihime opened her mouth to speak, his quiet resolve shattered and he half screamed, "We're Ichigo's friends too! Except for Chad, we've been Ichigo's friends longer! So maybe we're not as strong as you guys, it doesn't mean we're helpless!"

Mizuiru nodded his agreement.

"Well…maybe we could split up," Orihime said, before quickly amending, "into pairs."

Tatsuki shook her head in disbelief. "I didn't expect even _you_ to try babying us like this, Orihime." Her face grew sad, "Do you really think I'm that weak?"

"That has nothing to do with it," Chad broke in quietly, and like every time he bothered to speak, everyone else shut their mouths to listen. "Ichigo isn't weak, and look what happened to him." The tall boy held up a hand for silence when it seemed Tatsuki was going to protest. "Even if you don't end up on the front lines of a war like he did, going on these hunts is still getting involved in that same world. And going after weak hollows like these ones is how Ichigo started too."

All the fight drained out of the feisty girl at that. She gave in with a muttered, "Fine."

"Each pair should consist of one senior and one junior member, " said Ishida, trying to get back on track.

"Senior…Junior… Is this a club now?" Keigo asked, confused. Then his eyes lit up, and he exclaimed, "Oh! Let's get jackets!"

Mizuiru smacked him.

"Thank you, Mizuiru. Now then, let's split up-"

"We already have, Ishida-san," Mizuiru called out helpfully from where he stood at Chad's side. Orihime and Tatsuki were already a half a block away.

"Later," Chad called over his shoulder.

Mizuiru chuckled and added, "Have fun, you two!"

"Wait!" Ishida cried to their retreating backs. When they didn't so much as pause, Ishida turned resignedly to face his fate.

"So, about those jackets…"

The bespectacled boy sighed and started looking for a hollow to feed himself to. It would be a far kinder end then facing _this_.

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"I brought you dinner," Yuzu called as she pushed her brother's door open, tray of food in hand, "and a muffin for dessert!" Once in the room, she paused to stare before distractedly placing the tray on his desk. "Ichi-nii… What are you doing?"

"Oh, ah… nothing, Yuzu." Ichigo's eyes shifted about wildly for an excuse. After a disheartening moment of realizing he wouldn't be finding one, he tried lamely, "Just…hanging out?"

"That was lame, Ichi-nii," the small girl giggled, then climbed up onto the boy's bed and reached out of the window to grab Ichigo's hand and help him back inside the house from where he had been clinging desperately to the gutter.

"What were you doing out there?" She asked as she forced the older boy back under the warm covers of his bed.

The teen rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Sorry, but I think I'm going to crack if I have to stay in this bed much longer." His brow furrowed in thought, "It's funny. I remember jumping out of windows being a lot easier than that…"

"You're still recovering. You can't do crazy stuff like climbing out windows until _after_ you're feeling better," she said sternly, one hand on her hip, the other shaking a finger at Ichigo's nose.

Ichigo smiled and ruffled his sister's hair before conceding defeat to the unofficial—yet unopposed—taskmaster of the Kurosaki household. He let himself collapse limply into his pillows and closed his eyes, letting out a heavy breath.

Yuzu's hand dropped, and she stood at her brother's side for a moment, just looking at his tired face before coming back to herself and rushing to the desk to grab his dinner and settle it carefully over his lap.

"Eat your food before you go back to sleep, okay? And no more climbing out the window. Daddy's not even here to drive you to it."

Ichigo chuckled and mumbled something indistinguishable around the large bite of rice in his mouth, then swallowed and made a shooing motion with his hand. Yuzu shook her head as she turned to leave, but giggled again when Ichigo nearly choked around a, "Thanks, Yuzu!"

The small girl made her way back down to the kitchen, tiptoeing past her own room so she wouldn't disturb Karin. Her sister hadn't been taking all of this too well…

Once she stepped foot through the kitchen door what was left of Yuzu good mood crashed down around her as her eyes came to rest on the boxes of pills laying innocuously on the counter.

She hurried over to put the extra pills back in their boxes for tomorrow and brushed the counter clean of any powder that had escaped from the portion she had crushed up and put in Ichigo's food.

Yuzu worked quickly and efficiently—because to do anything else would be irresponsible. And maybe… maybe if she put the pills away and covered up the fact that she had been giving Ichi-nii medicine to_ make_ him sick it would be like it never happened, like it hadn't _been_ happening since he woke up, and like it wasn't going to _keep_ happening until Daddy said to stop.

The young girl bit her lip and tried very hard to push back her tears. Even if she didn't like doing it, even if it made her stomach clench with the feeling that she was betraying her big brother, she knew she _had to_ do it.

If this little thing was all she had to do to ensure she never had to see her Ichi-nii like _that _again, then she would do it without regrets.

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Coming Next Chapter: Karin, flashes of misleading memory, and why a very bored teenager is a very bad thing.

(In other words, the action is heading your way!)


	4. Memories Near and Far

Hey! So this is Chapter 3 (installment 4) of "Cruel to be Kind." I know it's short, and originally I was planning to have the plot move forward a lot more in this chapter, but because of the nature of the content I decided it was better not to rush it.

And everyone give lot of love to my new beta ARCtheElite!

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CTBK: Chapter 3: Memories Near and Far

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—Five weeks previous—

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Karin sat at the kitchen table, idly tapping a spoon against the side of her cup and waiting for Yuzu to serve breakfast.

It wasn't long before Ichigo shuffled downstairs and sleepily sat himself in his usual seat at her side. He groped blindly for the orange juice with half closed eyes for nearly a minute before Karin took pity on him and pushed it into his hand. She shook her head in exasperation. Ichigo had always been a morning person, but lately it always seemed like he was exhausted.

"Thanks," he said, taking a gulp straight from the carton. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and then straightened in his chair. "Hey, Yuzu, Karin, I'm gonna walk ya to school today."

"Really?" Yuzu perked up from her position in front of the stove.

Karin narrowed her eyes at the older boy. "We can walk by ourselves. If you walk us all the way there you're going to be half an hour early for class."

"I don't mind."

Her fist banged down on the table. "Well, I do!" At Ichigo's wounded look, Karin just rolled her eyes. "Ichi-nii, we're not babies anymore. You don't have to worry about us."

"But I do worry. I'll still be in class when you get out though, so—"

"You can't be serious. We'll be fine!"

Ichigo stood and caught Karin's shoulder, pulling her closer, then looked over to Yuzu, "No. I'm walking you to school. And would you… j-just promise you'll come straight home after school, all right? And stick together."

Karin pulled back slightly, trying to look into her brother's eyes. "But Ichi-nii, I have practice after-"

"Please."

Karin's shoulders fell, but Yuzu moved forward and grabbed her wrist lightly. "Okay," Yuzu assured, promising for the both of them, "We'll come straight home."

Though Ichigo's smile didn't quite reach his eyes, his relief was obvious.

"Thank you."

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—Present—

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Karin sat huddled under her desk, hands gripping ankles and chin resting on the curve of her knees, and stared blankly at the wooden panel before her.

She was so _stupid!_ Crying like a baby and hiding like it would make a difference… She uncurled slightly and let her head bang against the side of the desk.

She couldn't keep doing this. She had to be the strong one now. For Yuzu. And for Ichigo. Yuzu was the baby, and she already took care of them all. And Ichigo…he was the one that needed her to stay together the most right now. He had taken care of everyone too, had been all too willing to shoulder the burden of the whole damn world if it would only keep everyone _else_ safe.

Karin could vividly remember each time Ichi-nii went missing, sometimes for weeks at a time. She recalled his tired grins and the earnest but obviously false reassurances that everything was _fine_, _really_. But most of all, she remembered the way Ichi-nii would walk sometimes: each movement so very careful, as if half-afraid to tear open some gaping wound that was no longer there.

But for all of that she still didn't _get it_. For the most part Ichi-nii had been fine—absolutely fine—one day, and then the next…

Ichigo wouldn't just snap like that. It didn't matter what Goat Chin said about post-traumatic stress disorder or whatever else, Ichigo wouldn't just _break_ like that. It made no_ sense_. Even after Mom died he hadn't, so why…

She burrowed back into the safety of her knees and stubbornly refused to cry for a second longer. She could do this; she could be strong for her brother.

The warmth coursing down her cheeks and the burning behind her eyes didn't mean anything.

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"Good morning," Ichigo called as he walked into the kitchen to grab a snack.

"Ichi-nii, it's three-o'clock already," Yuzu said while batting her brother's hands away from the refrigerator. "And don't eat junk food!"

Ichigo opened his mouth to protest, but Yuzu beat him to it, "I know you were going to. I'll be finished with lunch soon, and you'll ruin your appetite." She gave him one of her _looks_. "And why aren't you in bed resting like you should be?"

"I'm fine! And it's not like walking down the stairs is exhausting," Ichigo argued, careful to cover up how stiffly he held himself and the tremors in his hands.

He might be tired, but if he spent one more second cooped up in his bedroom he was gonna… Well, to be honest, he wasn't sure what he would do. But it would be bad. Really bad. Yeah…

"I~Chi~Goooooooo!" His father shrieked from behind him; he braced himself for impact.

It never came.

Instead he was grabbed up into a bear hug from behind and carried over to and pushed into a chair. "Listen to your beautiful sister! She knows what's best for you, Stupid Son!"

Ichigo, still flinching from his expected meeting with the wall, floor, or ceiling (it had been known to happen), cautiously opened one eye. Upon assuring himself that he was in fact alive and uninjured—no matter how his brain screamed it was impossible—he came out of his defensive curl and stared up at his father.

"…What?" Isshin asked, uncomfortable under his son's unwavering gaze. "Do I have something in my teeth?" He gasped then wailed, "Do I have a _gray hair_? Oh Masaki, your manly stud of a husband is getting old!"

Ichigo cut the ranting man off before he could do any of the young minds present further damage, "You're not…gonna kick me in the face? Or put me in a pincer hold. Or-"

"Of course not!" Isshin actually sounded insulted at the insinuation. "You're still recovering! What kind of father would I be if I…"

At this point Ichigo made the executive decision to ignore the ranting man and instead make another lunge for the refrigerator. Yuzu, ever ready for the erratic behavior her family was famous for, intercepted his dive and gave him a glare that he grumpily decided only middle-aged housewives should be capable of.

Shut down on all sides, he gave up and stomped back up the stairs.

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—Four weeks previous—

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Karin rubbed at the corner of her eye as she made her way through the dark hallway and back to bed. Goat Chin had told her not to drink so much soda right before bed, but who would've thought he would be right for once?

She paused at her bedroom door when the sound of frantic shuffling wafted to her ears. Worried that Yuzu was having another nightmare, she peeked inside. What she found instead was disquieting. Ichigo was kneeling at the side of her bed, looking under the mattress and frantically pulling at her covers, as if something might be hidden among the sheets.

"What are you doing, Ichi-nii?" Karin asked carefully as she came up behind him. He whipped around to face her and tripped over himself getting to his feet before clutching at her shoulders and then running his hands lightly over her arms as if searching for injuries.

She shifted uncomfortably under his hands and met his eyes in the darkness, "H-hey, are you okay?"

The bags under the older boy's eyes worried her. Karin knew he hadn't been sleeping—how could he when he had made a habit of this, of walking to her and Yuzu's door at odd hours of the night and checking obsessively that they were still in their beds?—but it had never gone this far before.

"Where were you, Karin? You-you weren't in your bed."

"I just went to the bathroom…"

"Oh. Right. Of course." Ichigo rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, "Sorry, Karin. Just, when I came in and you weren't there I-" He cut himself off and shook his head with a nervous chuckle. "Sorry. Go back to sleep." He smiled wanly at the girl and ruffled her dark hair as he past her on his way out the door.

Karin could only stare after the boy's retreating back.

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—Present—

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Ichigo paced listlessly around his room until his legs ached and his knees shook. Even then he only took a cursory glance at his bed—the evil thing kept trying to suck him back in, he swore—before making another circuit about the floor. If he had to stay here one mor—

—_eally all right for you guys to stay here? Shouldn't you get back before—_

Ichigo stumbled and almost crashed into his desk chair. That sudden flash, those words… What the hell was that?

He pulled himself back together cautiously and looked around the room, as if the answer could be found strewn across the floor. But no, he shook his head, everything was normal. There was his bed, his desk, his closet—

—_Blood red on soft white. Hands holding him back. A steady voice, 'Calm down, Kurosaki-san. She'll be fine n—_

Ichigo staggered backward until his back hit the wall, and he tripped over himself and fell to the floor—

—'_O-su! Hows'it going, Ichigo!'— _

He scrabbled at the carpet beneath him, his breath coming in ragged pants—

—'_I wants It-sy-goooo!'—_

His world was blurring together at the edges, skipping scenes, jumping from frame to frame, coming faster and faster. _Just shut up, shut up!—_

—'_Well, that's not beautiful at a—_

—'_It's Hitsugaya-tai— _

He couldn't breath! Make it _stop!_—

—'_My name… is Kuchiki Ru—_

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Isshin paused on his way through the clinic and turned to stare up through the ceiling towards Ichigo's room. He let his eyes clench shut and ran a tired hand over his face. Turning on his heel, he walked hurriedly up the stairs and towards his son's wildly fluctuating reiatsu.

So, it had finally started. He only wished it hadn't come to this…

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—Two weeks previous—

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"Ichi-nii?"

It was dark. So damn dark. And those heavy, panting breaths we freaking the hell out of him. He couldn't even tell where they were coming from and it was driving him _mad. _Someone had to tell the noisy bastard to _shut up—_

"Why are you sitting in the dark?"

—And he couldn't breath. He couldn't breath! There was no air, no fucking air! There was no air and he couldn't breath and he didn't know where his friends—or his _family_—were, he didn't know where anyone was and—oh god—what if they couldn't breath too?!

"…Ichi-nii?"

Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god—

"Ichi-nii!"

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Coming next chapter: Chad, Kon, Neliel, more reluctant lies, and one very unfortunate city block.


	5. With All the Best Intentions

A/N: Huzzah for my longest chapter _ever_! In _any_ fanfic! This is how you guys know I love you! (Repay the favor in reviews, yeah? Yeah! --hint, hint--) It's actually also my first action scene (for _reals_), so please don't be shy to criticize anything I didn't do well (…or anything I did…).

Without any further delay, please enjoy:

Cruel to be Kind: Chapter 4: With All the Best Intentions

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The man hummed as he ran a slender finger along the leather-bound spines of the shelved books. He had to make sure of something, and he knew the volume he was searching for was in this section somewhere…

With a quiet sound of satisfaction, he plucked the desired tome from its spot and flipped through until he found the section that interested him. He marked the page with a finger before seating himself in a plush white chair and skimming through the pages.

After quite a few minutes of studying the text, his finger paused over one particular section, widened eyes the only indication his shock. Careful calculations and rapid reevaluations of past data ran through his mind. Could he have been so badly misled as to the very nature of what he sought? Yes. Yes, it might—

He paused then; he could be jumping to false conclusions. A change in plans now would be disastrous if he were wrong. Best to be cautious. Rereading the passage again and again until he was sure, he let a smirk curve his lips. This was… interesting.

And it changed _everything_.

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"…—nd you're positive it's—…"

"…—n't insult me! I wouldn't—…"

"It's imperative-…-or else—…"

"…—do about the family?"

"Ther-…-hollo—"

"…— en when will the transfe—…"

"Soon."

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Ichigo sat at his family's kitchen table, Karin and Yuzu at his sides, and stared blankly at the wood grain of the tabletop. Isshin pulled up a chair directly across from his son and pushed a warm mug of tea into his hands.

"Ichigo…it's okay. Tell Daddy what happened." Isshin spoke quietly, a poor rendition of his usual enthusiasm forced into his voice as he tried to encourage the withdrawn teen to speak.

Ichigo's hands tightened around the cup until his knuckles whitened and the porcelain groaned beneath his fingers. Everyone was acting so damn _odd_, treating him as if he were a particularly small and stupid _child_. Normally if his father had found him passed out on the floor of his room, he just would have made fun of him. Karin was too quiet; Yuzu had that hopeful puppy dog look in her eyes, and they were all being so damn _considerate_. This wasn't the way his family was supposed to work!

"Ichi-nii?" Yuzu begged, placing a small, warm hand at his elbow. "What happened?"

"Nothing," he insisted stubbornly, as he had been since they dragged him down here nearly an hour ago. Karin pulled at his sleeve and stared silently into his eyes once he turned to face her.

Faced with her solemn gaze, he sighed and dropped his eyes to the surface of the untouched tea he still held. "I…" He sighed. "I really don't know what happened. I was just walking around my room and then…" He hunched further over the cup, as though seeking warmth. "Maybe… I think I remembered something. That or I had a psychotic break."

A long uncomfortable silence followed his quiet declaration. It was only broken when Karin cleared her throat and asked, "What did you remember?"

He opened his mouth to respond but closed it when he realized he didn't know what to say. His jaw clenched as he thought back to those chaotic moments before the darkness overtook him. Red. Stark white. Clean, tightly bound bandages. Faces without eyes or identifying features. Voices that should have been familiar but weren't.

"…People," he finally settled on. "I remembered people I met. But there was something… wrong with all of them. They weren't normal, didn't fit. And… I remember blood."

As he spoke the others shared an uneasy glance. After a few moments, Isshin cleared his throat. "Why don't you girls go watch some TV? Daddy and Ichigo will finish up this talk by ourselves, man-to-man!"

The twins exchanged a second glance. Though it was obvious their father was trying to retain his normal gaiety for their benefit, the strain Isshin showed in doing so only made his children even more uncomfortable. The two girls got slowly to their feet and made their way out of the room, delaying only to press a kiss to either of their brother's cheeks.

Ichigo couldn't even muster up the strength to smile for them.

Isshin listened intently to his daughters' footsteps as they exited the room before he steeled himself and turned back to face his son. "Ichigo…" He trailed off. How could he possibly start this conversation? How did you even begin to tell a teenager…

More than anything, Isshin wished Ichigo had never been put in this situation. Or, barring that, that Urahara hadn't insisted on restoring the partial memories and what that entailed he tell the boy.

_Or better yet_, Isshin thought grimly, _that Masaki was here…_ She would have been able to make this whole nightmare bearable. But then, Masaki would never have let it get this bad to start with.

His legs wooden, Isshin stood and walked around the table to seat himself at Ichigo's side and clamp a supportive hand on his shoulder. Despite all the mistakes Isshin had made, he was still Ichigo's father. He'd do whatever it took to protect him, no matter how unpalatable. He only hoped that this time he was making the right choice.

_Last time_ it was obvious that he hadn't, hindsight being what it was. He had decided to step back and let Ichigo stand up for himself and fight his own battles. He had thought that it would help Ichigo grow into the kind of man he wanted to become.

And watching Ichigo during that chaotic time had only made him more confident in his decision. Ichigo was such a brave kid, unrelenting in his ideals. Isshin had been so _proud_. He was _still _proud. After all, _he_ was the one that had screwed up.

Seeing his son fighting so hard and coming home victorious time after time, it had been all too easy to forget that he was still just a boy. Soul Society and the others may have forgotten as well, or maybe they had disregarded it from the beginning, but Ichigo was _his _son. He was the one that should have remembered the smiling little boy that cried every time he lost a fight.

But even despite it, Ichigo had continued on remarkably well while battles raged on around every corner. Others, hardened warriors with centuries of experience to their names, had broken down. But not Ichigo. No, it was only when they had thought it was finally over that Ichigo had fallen apart.

Isshin had initially worried that his son wouldn't be able to cope with regular life after the war, but only because a human existence would seem too boring or monotonous, and that the newly minted warrior would hunger for the adrenaline rush of battle.

Instead, once the makeshift ceasefire of the Winter War had been established, Ichigo had been terrified of every shadow, even the ones he cast himself. He was constantly on his guard, convinced that something, somewhere, was lurking in wait, ready to snatch up any one of his loved ones that made it outside the circle of his protection, even for a second.

It had started out slowly. A nightmare here. Clinging just a bit to closely to the girls, or his friends, or even to Isshin himself, there. And Isshin had worried: he was a father and a doctor, he knew the signs. But soon after, Ichigo had seemed to come back to himself. He slept well, studied diligently, and in all respects seemed content. Isshin's worries had eased at seeing his son slowly adjusting back into his human life.

But then, seemingly at random, Ichigo would jerk, or gasp, or stumble before running off to fight some hollow that might or might not have been there. He took to wondering the streets for hours at a time, performing konso on souls between the end of classes and when he finally forced himself to go home. And then had come the long nights when Ichigo hadn't so much gone to sleep as dropped his body off before leaving to make rounds of Karakura, Zangetsu always at the ready.

Isshin had watched his son fall apart in front of his eyes, and he hadn't been able to do a damn thing. And there was nothing for him to do now either, nothing but clean up the mess that he had made of his son's life. With a soul-deep sigh, he began, "…While you were in the hospital, you made friends with a few of the other patients that shared your condition. The first girl you met was named Kuchiki Rukia…"

He supposed he was the worst kind of father.

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Ichigo had already learned the hard way that no matter how desperately he wanted out of the house, climbing out the window was not the way to go about it.

With that in mind, he cracked his door open as quietly as he could and peered out into the hallway.

Clear.

Creeping through the hall and down the stairs was a new experience for the teenager, but he decided that he seemed to be doing an okay job of it.

"Ah-ha!"

Ichigo jerked. Damn it, Goat Chin had caught him! He turned around to explain why he was tiptoeing his way out the front door when his father's voice continued, "My adorable girls really do love Daddy!" An angry crash, that long experience told Ichigo was the sound of his father's face meeting the wall, followed shortly after.

The orange-haired boy sighed in relief. The noise was coming from the kitchen; he was in the clear. Goat Chin, Yuzu, and Karin were all together and out of the way.

Time to make a break for it.

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Ichigo had felt almost guilty as he closed the front door behind him, but all he wanted was to go on a ten-minute walk to clear his head. He silently promised that he'd be back before his family even noticed he was gone.

He needed time to think, and he couldn't do that with everyone hovering and coming in to check on him every other minute.

He let his feet pick their own path. His head was more concerned with other things.

So. He had made friends. And they were dead. That damn, stupid drug again.

Okay. He could handle it. Sure he could. But even as he tried to accept it, something in him kept ringing that it was _wrong, wrong, wrong_. But even deeper down and far more disconcerting was the little voice that whispered _right_. Just not in any way that made sense to him; a little niggling feeling in the corner of his mind, or maybe the pit of his stomach, that said nothing was as it seemed.

"Itsygo!" an energetic little voice cried out, breaking him from his thoughts.

He started and whipped around, trying to determine where the voice had come from, but saw nothing. As he took in his surroundings for the first time, he realized that he didn't recognize anything, not even the street names. In other words…

He was lost.

Damn it. Weren't your feet supposed to take you down paths you walked frequently if you weren't paying attention? And he had definitely never been here before: this had to be the weirdest, most run down part of town he'd ever seen. The best looking building in sight was some crummy little third-rate candy shop down the road.

He sighed, voice already forgotten. With his luck, his feet probably had amnesia too.

The aforementioned voice apparently wasn't content to stay out of mind for long. The second cry of, "Itsygo!" was accompanied by a cannonball striking him in the gut with enough force to topple him over. At least, that's what Ichigo thought it was until he dazedly looked up at the bouncing ball of hyperactive smiles that was making herself comfortable on his stomach.

"Hi-ya, Itsygo!"

"Wha—?"

"Nel!" a nasally male voice called from somewhere above his prone form, "What has everyone told you about tackling strangers? That really hurts, you know? You're gonna get us sued one of these days! And then Urahara-san will kick us out and then where will we liv-", the newcomer cut off suddenly, just as the dark splotch of his sneakers came into view in Ichigo's peripheral vision.

Ichigo shifted the girl from his stomach to his lap and levered himself up with his arms. That done, he stared down at the child bouncing happily on his knees. She met his stare with an enormous grin that showed off the gap between her teeth, then latched onto the fabric of his collar with tiny fists.

Ichigo raked an agitated hand through his hair. Why did this stuff always happen to _him_?

Letting out a sigh, he turned to face the other male. Nasally-Voice Boy, as Ichigo had internally dubbed him, turned out to be a lanky blond teen with dark brown eyes and tan skin. Ichigo furrowed his brow as he studied the other's face more closely. He wasn't at the best angle, and maybe it was just the brain damage talking again, but this kid could easily pass himself off as Ichigo's long lost identical twin brother… with a dye job.

"Hey…" Ichigo finally found his voice, "I suppose this is yours?" He gestured to the girl that had begun clinging to his neck.

"Oh, um… yeah, Ich-" The blond floundered for a minute, "I'll… I'll just take her." He knelt to help detach the child from the redhead, but the girl wouldn't cooperate.

She frowned and then snapped her teeth at the blond's reaching fingers. "No. Bad Kon! Nel wan'th Itsygo!" She turned back to smile up at him, "He finally came for a vithit!"

"Nel! Shut up!" The newly named Kon hurriedly ripped the girl from her perch and hugged her to his chest, slapping a hand over her mouth.

He glanced up at Ichigo and laughed nervously. "Ha… Kids, right? I swear-" He cut off into a wail as Nel's teeth sunk into the tender flesh of his palm. He dropped her to the ground and flailed, waving his hand wildly as if that might somehow help with the pain.

Ichigo was dimly aware that there was something very strange going on, but that innocent, evil little grin on the girl's face distracted him from figuring out exactly what it was. She looked so _familiar_…

"Let'th get ice cream!"

The exclamation was so out-of-the-blue that all Ichigo could do at first was blink. At his blank expression, Nel sighed a sigh belonging only to the very young when dealing with yet another stupid grown-up, grabbed his hand, and began dragging him down the street.

Ichigo, bent double and being forcibly hauled away by someone a fourth his size, decided that life was very strange indeed.

Kon continued to flail and swear creatively for several long moments before finally realizing that he was being left behind.

"Hey! Wait for meeeeee!"

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Several minutes later found Ichigo standing at a street corner clutching a strawberry ice cream cone and unsure as to how exactly he had found himself there.

He gave it a moment of thought before quietly accrediting it to the brain damage and moving on. Shrugging it off (he'd seen far stranger things), he took a lick of his sweet before it could drip on his fingers and turned his attention back to the pair arguing in front of him.

"Nel," Kon whispered from the corner of his mouth, apparently convinced Ichigo either couldn't hear him or wasn't listening, "We're not supposed to let him know we know him, you dumb kid!"

"Nah-huh!" She stuck out her tongue and pulled at her eyelid.

Watching the two interact, Ichigo decided that being in their company was at the very least more exciting than staying locked up in his bedroom come jail cell. But… What the hell were they talking about? Could he hav—

His thoughts were abruptly interrupted when the storefront just behind them imploded in a shower of shattering glass and groaning metal.

Ichigo threw himself at the others, shielding them with his body and taking the brunt of the impact of the falling ruble for his trouble.

After a time that might have been seconds but lasted for a small eternity as he waited for the dust to settle, Ichigo cautiously picked himself up and turned to look back at the scene of the accident.

He really wished he hadn't.

"W-what the fuck is that?"

A masked-faced, two-story tall monster, his mind dutifully informed him.

But how could a fucking _monster_ just be wondering the streets of Karakura in the middle of the afternoon? He pushed down the wild thought that it should have at least had the decency to wait for sundown. Ichigo swallowed heavily and slowly started backing away, pulling the other two along with him by whatever scrap of clothing his fingers could find.

And then the beast turned to face them.

"Shit," Kon hissed, glancing at Ichigo and then moving to place himself between the redhead and the threat.

Nel growled low in her throat, much like a tiny, territorial dog, before launching her small form at the thing. She barely left the ground before Kon's grip on her collar dragged her back.

"Nel can get him!" the child complained, straining at the bit.

"No you can't, you idiot!" Kon, moving as slowly as he could, grabbed Ichigo's wrist in a vise grip and steered the teen further behind himself. "You're in a gigai!"

That seemed to be all the time the hollow was willing to give them because it choose that moment to start forward, eyes trained on Ichigo.

"Shit! Run!" Kon yelped, not wasting another second in throwing Ichigo over one shoulder, Nel under the other arm, and taking off faster than any human alive had any right to.

Ichigo watched dizzily as the scene flew by, sky turning to street turning to sky, as Kon used everything from buildings to telephone polls as launching points in his mad dash to safety.

After running for what must have been nearly a mile, he finally began to slow. "I think we're okay now," Kon called reassuringly over his shoulder.

Ichigo really didn't give a damn. He just wanted _down_ before he threw up. Or at least he thought he did until a giant white hand obliged his request by batting them out of the air and sending them flying into the pavement.

Ichigo bounced once, then twice as he landed, and rolled until his back collided heavily with a support wall on the side of the road. He groaned and raised his head—only to meet the glowing eyes of the beast bearing down on him.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

"Get the fuck off me, you bastard!" Ichigo choked out, thrashing as violently as he was able to while pinned under the crushing weight of the hollow's giant forepaw. The salivating beast didn't seem inclined to listen, instead only pressing down harder on it's struggling prey, excited at the prospect of its coming meal.

Nearby, Kon finally managed to gather his feet under him and run at the hollow. He could kick it in the head, but the brute's claws were so close to Ichigo… One wrong move the teen would be decapitated. This is why a freakin' sword would be useful! Damn it! But it wouldn't matter in a minute anyway if he just stood there gawking and let Ichigo get _crushed_.

The blond used the hollow's distraction to duck under its arm and try to pry Ichigo free of its squeezing fingers. Just as Ichigo was able to suck in a stuttered breath and draw air into his abused lungs, Kon was casually flicked aside and the bruising force returned tenfold.

Ichigo heard Kon collide heavily with the nearby wall and spared a second to pray that his head hadn't been smashed open, but there wasn't exactly much he could do to help.

As if to confirm his thoughts, the beast let out a triumphant howl, then lifted Ichigo into the air and slammed him back down. His head cracked against the hard ground and the world flashed white. In desperation, Ichigo resorted to clawing at the hand restraining him, but his blunt fingernails could do nothing against the hollow's rocklike skin.

"_Wha' the fuck, King! Yer gonna le' a pipsqueak like this end ya? Fight the hell back!"_

He tried kicking, clawing, anything, but his head was spinning and he was sure his heart was about to burst in his chest and his ribs were creaking and groaning under the force of the beast's grip and, oh god, he was going to _pass out_ and then he was going to _die_—

"_Fuck this 'being good' crap! King, le' me fight; I'll rip his head righ' off!"_

Light burst behind Ichigo's eyes: something was climbing, building, soaring within him—that Voice, that Other, was pushing its way up, up, _up_—

And then there was a horrible moment of weightlessness as he was lifted into the air to hang limply in front of the thing's hunger bright eyes. Ichigo tried to scream, to cry out, but even that slight comfort was beyond him. He was staring his death straight in the face, its putrid breath wet and warm against his skin, and then suddenly… he was free.

The wind whistling past his ears, Ichigo only had time to be grateful to the universe at large for a moment before he numbly realized that he was hurtling twenty feet to the ground—head first—and was _probably_ about to die.

But instead of becoming a smear on the sidewalk, he was snatched out of his free-fall by his yellow-haired lookalike and landed with nary a bump. He was held for a moment against the other teen's heaving chest before Kon gently stood him on his shaky feet and chuckled, "Well that wasn't so bad, was it?"

Ichigo stared at him for a moment before doing the only thing he could do. He punched the bastard in the face.

That accomplished, Ichigo let himself collapse to his knees, his head spinning too fast for him to remain upright under his own power. He panted for air, but the deep breaths only sent pain knifing through an already aching chest. Some innate knowledge he didn't know he had informed him that he had at least one busted rib.

"Well now, what do we have here?" A new voice called. Ichigo wearily turned his head to see yet another blond weirdo, this one unshaven and wearing the stupidest hat Ichigo had ever seen, with a cane in one hand and Nel in the other. The beast was nowhere to be seen.

The man seemed to size Ichigo up for a minute before he smiled broadly and moved his lips in what Ichigo belatedly recognized to be speech. That was funny, he didn't hear anything…

Ichigo didn't have to worry about it for long because in the next instant the man disappeared in a swirl of black and the earth reached up to meet him.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Urahara Kisuke was many things: a man of science, a genius beyond compare, and, as some had claimed, not all there in the head. He reveled in them all.

But Kisuke had never before had to question whether or not he was a good man. Oh, he was far from perfect; he'd admit that freely enough. But this… this was different.

Looking down on Kurosaki-kun's upturned, dirt-streaked face, Urahara Kisuke didn't know if he would ever be able to trust himself again after this.

But damn it all, some things were more important. More important even than the bonds of friendship, or family, or trust.

Or at least, that was the mantra he had been repeating to himself religiously for the past two months—because he was about to break them all.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Coming next chapter: Nothing is ever as it seems. Just how deep does betrayal run?


	6. And the Wheels do Roll

Hahaha. Fear me, for I am AWESOME! I got this chapter up despite the horrible tragedy that has befallen me! (Namely, THREE exams and then _**spilling hot chocolate on my laptop**_ and having the keyboard freak the hell out. (An example written on my laptop? Okay: Ri m ame is RMooRClaimed. RI like wRii soRies. Row aRe ouRRRRR odaR 12347890 p-;/ (Yeah. Not good.))

But I love you guys, so I've done my best. I hope you don't mind that it's short given the circumstances. And now:

Cruel to be Kind: Chapter 5: And the Wheels do Roll

XXXXXXXXXXXX—Three Weeks Previous—XXXXXXXXXXXX

"Ichigo?" Chad called as his eyes skidded across the dark shadows of the alley in search of a trace of his best friend's bright hair, a bag of groceries dangling from one hand. He had been on his way home from the store when he felt Ichigo's reiatsu flaring wildly and immediately rushed over to check on him. Ichigo had been worrying them all lately.

He shook himself out of his thoughts and got back to what was important. The reiatsu was still flickering oddly, and Chad couldn't figure out why Ichigo would be in a dingy, garbage strewn back alley like this.

Ah, maybe that was it. Could Ichigo have left his body here and then had it buried under a pile of refuse while he was gone? It was a distinct possibility…

_Wait a minute_, Chad stilled, eyes wide. "Ichigo! Are you okay?"

A faint rustle answered him; Chad rushed to the source of the sound. He let out a heavy breath of relief when he noticed that the other boy was sitting safely between two piles of trash, but then he noticed the state the other was in.

He was curled into himself, rubbing his hands obsessively against his thighs, and muttering something under his breath over and over. Chad slowly inched his way over to the redhead, careful not to make any loud sounds or sudden movements. Right now, Ichigo resembled a small, injured animal more than the strong warrior Chad knew him to be.

He stopped several feet in front of the other, squatted on his haunches, and tried to catch the other's eyes with his own. After meeting with little success, he tried calling again, "Ichigo?"

"The hollow," Ichigo replied, instead of giving a straight answer. He took a shuttering breath and started again, as though admitting a wrong doing, "It got away."

"I'm…" Chad shifted uncomfortably, "I'm not sure I understand, Ichigo. That's not so horrible. Why are you so... so upset? Unless… you think it will go on to hurt a ghost?"

"No. Yes. No." Ichigo hugged his legs closer to his chest and continued so quietly that Chad almost didn't hear, "Not only the ghosts. The hollow… it was crying. Every time I see them, they're crying." Ichigo lifted his eyes from his lap to search Chad's face, "I have to help them too, don't I?" Ichigo looked him in the eye, pleading for an answer. Chad had never seen him look so young as in that moment, not even when he was a shrimp of a thirteen year-old getting bullied in a back alley—one a lot like this, really.

After a few seconds where Chad floundered for something to say, Ichigo's head dropped back down to stare at his knees. "But I was too slow. I couldn't save this one."

Chad sighed and moved closer to the other teen. He reached out and put a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder, and squeezed it reassuringly. "Come on, I'm taking you home. Your sister's will be worried."

XXXXXXXXXXXX— Present—XXXXXXXXXXXX

"Ah man, why is that punk always like that? Even when he doesn't know who I am he's an asshole," Kon grumbled as he rubbed at his newly blackened eye and staggered back up to his feet.

"Ichigo, you-" He cut off and blinked repeatedly when he noticed that the teen was sprawled out awkwardly on the ground. "Hey, why are you-" His brain then finally caught up and made the obvious leap that something might just be wrong.

"Crap! Hey! Hey, Ichigo, are you all right?" He questioned shakily as he cautiously reached down to shake the unresponsive boy.

"Don't touch him." A voice called out, much sharper than Kon had ever heard it. The blond looked back over his shoulder to glance at Urahara.

"Why? Is he that badly hurt?" His eyes widened. "Is it a neck injury? Or when that bastard hollow bashed his head against the pavement?" Kon swallowed thickly at the memory of the dully-wet, wholly-sickening thud Ichigo's skull had made on impact with the ground.

"Itsygo?" Nel called hopefully, small fingers buried in the fabric of Urahara's top. When the orange-haired boy did not immediately pop up with reassurances on his lips at the sound of her voice, the way he _always_ had in the past, her eyes spilled over. "Itsygoooo!"

"Calm down, Nel." Urahara said a great deal more gently, but still far too seriously for the situation to be anything but dire. Kon got the uncomfortable feeling that something beyond his understanding was taking place. "Kurosaki-kun is going to be fine. Tessai!" He called to the hulking form of his formerly unnoticed assistant. "Bring Kurosaki-kun back to the shoten."

"Of course," the man bowed before carefully gathering the redhead's sprawled body up in his arms and marching back the way he had come.

"Yeah," Kon sighed in relief, "I don't know what I was thinking. That idiot always ends up all right in the end." He started walking away, but Urahara called him back.

"And where are you going?"

"Hmm? Oh," the mod-soul rubbed at the back of his head, "I know you can take care of him, but I figure with the way things are Ichigo's dad will wan'ta know what happened."

"No."

Kon quirked a brow. "What do ya mean 'no'? I'm just gonna-"

In an instant, Urahara stood mere inches in front of Kon, glaring down at him out of oddly fierce eyes. "I mean 'no'. You're not to tell Isshin _anything_."

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Kon stood over the futon where Ichigo rested in one of the back rooms of the shoten and watched the brat sleep. He had no idea what was going on, but he was smart enough to know he didn't like it.

Urahara had not only not allowed him to go get Ichigo's father, he also hadn't let Tessai do more than rudimentary first aid on the injured teen despite the big man's protests. Broken ribs and a concussion were nothing to laugh at. The ex-captain claimed that he didn't want Ichigo to be exposed to any more reiatsu than he already had been, but Kon couldn't bring himself to buy it. Nothing about this felt right. In fact, this whole damn situation was just—

"I've been waiting for this, you know. One was bound to get through to him eventually."

"Urahara-san?" Kon questioned, turning to look at the man who hovered by the open door, "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, come now. You're not as stupid as you look; I should know, I helped create you."

At the mod-soul's confused silence, Urahara sighed theatrically. "The hollow. I knew those kids would slip up eventually. I might have helped it along a little, but really, everyone must have seen this coming. He was never going to be able to stay alive for very long."

Kon narrowed his eyes and turned to face the man fully, not quite able to wrap his mind around what he had just heard.

Urahara took a moment to smile croockedly at him, "I'm telling you this because it's important that you don't act rashly and… let's say, blab about those silly little theories I can see floating around in your head."

Not having any real idea what was going on, but realizing there was something very off about the other man, Kon opened his mouth to speak but found himself groping blindly for words. Something was wrong here. Forget what the store manager said, he was gonna go get Isshin _now_.

"You know, I was one of the researchers in charge of Project Spearhead. And as any competent scientist, I acknowledge that it is my responsibility to take care of my own mistakes."

"W-what? What are you talking about?" the mod-soul asked, taking a tentative step away from the taller man.

"Nothing, nothing," he waved the question away with a careless hand. "Just that it might be wise for those that the Soul Society still wants dead—I'm sorry, I mean dismantled—to be careful not to give those that provide them asylum reason to be upset." Urahara grinned benevolently. "Understand?"

Kon could only stare at the man he had always thought of as a friend and try to stop his hands from shaking. "W-wha-"

Urahara's smile grew wider, his eyes sharp and half-hidden behind the lip of his hat. "I asked if you understood?"

Kon could only nod weakly, unable to speak around his suddenly parched throat.

"Good!" Urahara clapped decisively, "I'd hate for something _regrettable _to happen because of a simple misunderstanding." He patted the younger man on the shoulder before strolling cheerfully out of the room snapping the door closed behind him.

Kon remained very still until the sound of Urahara's merrily clacking geta faded into the recesses of the shop. He was able to draw a single, ragged breath before his knees finally gave out and he was sent crashing to the floor.

He landed heavily on his arm, but the pain went unnoticed. Instead he curled into himself and tried to ward off the sudden, hysterical longing for the numbness his old, plush body had afforded him and the nice, safe corner of the room he had once inhabited.

He shuddered and pressed his forehead into the cool wood of the floorboards, wondering vaguely when the world had fallen apart without him noticing.

_What… What just happened?_

XXXXXXXXXXXX

"It's time. I've got him." Urahara paced listlessly while holding the phone to his ear. He distractedly twirled the cord around one finger, unwound it, and twirled it again.

Damn it, he had never wanted it to end up this way! But Ichigo… What else was he supposed to do? If only the kid wasn't so bullheaded, then maybe this all could have been avoided. But no. It was too late for thoughts like that; he had picked his path, and now he'd have to walk down it.

"_How will you deal with the ryoka and the family? They won't simply accept the boy's disappearance, but we must do this as quietly as possible."_ The thin voice wavered through the receiver, as though coming from a great distance.

"A hollow just attacked him…" Urahara smiled, but his eyes were empty, "I'm afraid I came just a few seconds too late. But then, I suppose it's only right that Kurosaki-kun died in the way his mother did. Or at least, Isshin will think so."

There was a moment's pause before the voice continued, _"That's fine then, but given those circumstances they'll want the body…"_

"Once we get him away from here, he won't need it anymore."

"…_All right. We will be there to collect him within the hour."_

Urahara released a deep breath and almost collapsed with relief. It was almost over now.

"_Urahara-san?"_

"Yes?" he breathed.

"_Good work."_ The other end disconnected with a click.

It was finally over. Everything was in motion, and his part in this was done. So why, at those two simple words, did he suddenly feel like screaming?

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Ichigo groaned as he woke up and rubbed at a pounding temple. He sat up, looked around, and then immediately flopped back down.

"Why the hell do I keep ending up here?" he muttered to the vertical sky.

"Maybe the li'l voice in yer head is trin' to tell ya somet'ing," a distorted voice answered in far too reasonable a tone to be anything approaching reasonable.

"Ah!" Ichigo jerked as his own inverted face came to hover mere inches away from his eyes.

"Hi-ya, Partner," Hichigo crowed, all too smug.

Ichigo smacked him upside the head. "Why do you always pull this shit, Hichigo?" he demanded hotly.

"It's no' my fault tha-"

They both paused when they realized what the colored version of their soul had just said.

"Hey," Hichigo chuckled nastily, "It work-"

"How the hell did I know your name? Who the hell are you? And where the fuck _am _I?"

"-ed." The albino boy clapped a hand over his eyes. "Or not."

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Kon strolled as casually out of the Urahara shoten as he could bring himself to, then took off down the street once he thought himself a safe distance away from _that guy_.

It didn't matter, he decided, what happened to him. Ichigo was the only reason he had lived as long as he had anyway. And he was definitely the only reason that Kon had ever been given _any _kind of body or allowed to live any kind of _real _life.

Kon couldn't claim he was selfless enough to just give his life up for anyone. Risking it was one thing, but just _giving it way_ was something else. But Isshin was an ex-captain too and maybe, he justified to himself, he would be willing to protect him from the crazy bastard. Because he _so_ owed him after this.

Hell, _the universe_ owed him after this.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Their swords clanked softly at their hips as they filed into the meeting room in two long lines. A tall, dark-haired man met eyes with his nearest neighbor and sighed, before rubbing a hand against his stubble-strewn jaw. He had thought this kind of thing was _over with_ for a little while. Didn't they deserve a break? He certainly thought so. But try explaining that to the Boss Man.

…Speak of the devil.

At the front of the room, their leader drifted into place, his second at his shoulder. He stood silent for a moment—studying his subordinates critically—before letting the leather bound tome he had held in one hand bang loudly against the table, the sound calling attention for him.

As those gathered turned to face him, Aizen allowed himself a satisfied curl of the lips. "I have a job for you."

XXXXXXXXXXXX

^ - ^


	7. AN: Not Dead Yet

A/N: I am so incredibly sorry it has taken me so long to update… and I'm even more sorry to say this is not an update either. But fear not! An update _**is **_coming… eventually. I'm working on it even now, but, well… I'm not even going to try to cough up an excuse.

The point is that this story will be continued; it will just take me some time. Expect an update by the end of next month, and after that… about every three weeks as opposed to every week as before.

Quite frankly, it's because I updated so quickly before that I'm having problems now. I put up each chapter as I wrote so when I ran into a roadblock I had nothing in reserve.

Anyway, thank you so very much to everyone who has taken the time to read this story (especially those who have reviewed, alerted, or faved), you guys are the reason I'll push myself through this writer's block.

And as a reward to anyone who has actually read this far, here's **an excerpt** that will appear in the next chapter (or possibly the one after):

* * *

…Ichigo climbed unsteadily to his feet and picked a likely direction to walk in. "You, shut up. And I thought you said you could get us out of there."

"I did!" the hollow answered, all affronted pride.

"Yeah," the orange-haired teen admitted easily, "but where the hell did you _take_ us?" Ichigo paused in his steps and wiped at his eyes again before taking another look across the barren landscape.

"Hey, this place… it's familiar. I've definitely been here before." The longer his gaze lingered on the surroundings the more confidence he gained in his assertion, small snippets of memory trickled back through his mind, as if from a far off place. Nothing concrete, but enough to assure him that the pale hills were not a new sight.

"Oh, yeah?" his Other questioned nervously.

Ichigo stopped short, almost tripping over his own feet on the loose ground.

"What do you know?"

"Nothing!"

The teen narrowed his eyes and focused on trying to make thunder crash ominously in his inner world.


	8. The Awakening of Truth

A/N: Well, it's short, but I think it also moves the plot along more than any other chapter. And I think I got the ball rolling again! Plus, more characters are introduced!!! Wow, I have a lot of the little buggers to keep track of…

Cruel to be Kind: Chapter 6: The Awakening of Truth

XXXXXXXXXXXX—Nine Days Previous—XXXXXXXXXXXX

"As I've already said," Urahara reiterated to the room full of shinigami, "Kurosaki-kun can have no contact with beings of high reiatsu that he can't easily compartmentalize to fit into his old life."

"But I don't get it. If you're already doing all this, why don't you seal his power too? It'll make him a lot less interesting to a lot of bad shit." Renji looked off to the side, "And make him less sensitive to our presence. I mean, maybe then we could at least check up on him."

The shopkeeper looked vaguely frustrated, "It would be for the best. However, due to Kurosaki-kun's…unique power, sealing it is impossible without causing lasting damage."

Rukia, fists tight and shaking in her lap, finally cried out, "So we're just supposed to never see Ichigo again? We can't even—"

Urahara cut her off with a deadly quiet voice, "If you really care about him at all, you will leave him alone."

XXXXXXXXXXXX—Present—XXXXXXXXXXXX

"What," Isshin demanded through gritted teeth, "were you just doing to my son?"

Isshin hadn't wanted to believe it. When Kon had run panting into the house and started raving about Kisuke saying disturbing things, threatening Kon and Ichigo, he hadn't wanted to believe it. He had refused to believe it. Not after everything he had put his boy through on his friends word. But just the mention of a hollow attack on his son had had him running all the same. And thank god it had.

"I think it was pretty clear what I was doing." The response came calmly, at least from someone dangling on his toes at the angry hands of an outraged father.

And it was clear. When Isshin had marched into the room, it was to find Kisuke leaning over his son's body—one hand firmly covering the nose and mouth. The reminder did nothing to still the tremors of rage coursing through Isshin's form.

"Kurosaki-san…he's already dead. The hollow ate his soul; what's left of your son is just a mass of tissue—"

"Don't give me that!" he raged, fist clenching tighter in the other man's collar, "Kon told me he was fine!"

"Did he now…" Kisuke smiled sadly and met his eyes, "Well, that one's never been overly bright, has he?" And something in the way he said it made it clear that Kisuke wasn't really talking about the mod soul's ability to tell if a soul was still inhabiting its body.

"Whatever the fuck you did to Ichigo, I want you to fix it. _Now_."

Kisuke placed a hand over the father's fist and forced it down to his side. "It's too late, Isshin. He's gone."

XXXXXXXXXXXX

A sudden overpowering heaviness in the air stopped the argument between the two aspects of Ichigo's soul cold.

The red haired boy visibly flinched before looking around himself cautiously, but nothing seemed to have changed: the clouds still drifted lazily up the horizon, the world was just as silent as ever, but… something _was _different. He just had no idea as to what.

He turned nervously back to the Other. _He_ at least seemed to have a vague idea of what had been happening lately…

"Ah, damni'. Nothin' can eve' be simple, can i'?" The hollow let out a long breath then turned to his companion, "Well, par'ner, the crap has jus' abou' hit th' fan." Ichigo blinked hard, unsure what response would be appropriate to that little tidbit of information. "Nah, King, I mean it now. Ya gotta get outta here."

"What are you talking about? If I'm here, then aren't I just sleeping? What could be going—"

"Yeah an' ya damn well ove'slept! The body ain't doin' so great, if ya follow me."

Rearing up in alarm, Ichigo yelped, "What do you mean 'the body isn't doing so great'! I need that body! I… I _live_ in there!"

Hichigo paused in his tirade long enough to give his Other an odd look. But before he could give a verbal response, the atmosphere shifted again. A chill raised up both of their spines before severe vertigo overtook them. Hichigo shook it off quickly, but Ichigo stumbled and fell heavily to his knees.

Though…he couldn't understand _why_ he would have fallen. It seemed more like he should be floating really… Everything was so…light. Bouncy almost. The world rippled in Ichigo's vision and it only occurred to him peripherally that that might just be a bad thing.

He felt a vague impression of hands on his shoulders, shaking him, but he really couldn't be bothered to care. It was just so _bright_ all of a sudden. And sort of soft around the edges.

Hmm…that was weird. The clouds were on sideways. He tilted his head to study them; wouldn't it make more sense if they were right-ways-up?

The world went quiet. The air stilled. Then, with sudden energy, wind rushed passed his ears. In a moment Everything had brightened, it must have been his _eyes_ that had brightened, and the sky started to turn on its axis. And, it seemed after a moment's indecision, the floor turned right along with it.

The ground jerking and shifting beneath his feet, Ichigo smiled with lazily satisfaction.

Ah, the hands were back. Rougher than before too. And far away he could just make out a voice…

_You Bastard! Wake th' hell up! Ya gotta wake up! What th' hell are ya doin—_

Just before the light stole his vision, a stark white hand came careening towards his face.

XXXXXXXXXX

Eyes popping open, Ichigo gasped desperately for air. After a panicked moment he collapsed back into the warm bed he was laid out in. As his breath calmed, he slowly became aware of the stinging pain in his left cheek. He raised a tired arm and rubbed at the spot; it was warm, as if a new bruise was forming.

This had not been his day. First getting lost, then meeting those weirdoes, then the wall blowing up and that big, giant, ugly…

The redhead sprung up from the bed and nearly tripped over the trailing blankets. After a moment of stumbling ineptitude, he twisted around wildly to assess his surroundings. Goddamnit, why did things like this keep happening to him?! He just couldn't get a break!

He was in a bedroom, by the looks of it. A really… upscale one. And everything from the walls, to the lush bedding, to the wall hangs (of which there were many) were in shades of blinding white and gold. It all came together to form a rather eerie effect. "…Where the fuck am I now?"

"You are safely in the our care, Kurosaki-sama."

Ichigo whipped around to face the voice and nearly had a heart attack when he realized that there were not one, but two people standing quietly behind him. How had he missed them standing there? It's not like they blended in wearing those funny, black robes…

The one who had spoken, a man of medium height and stocky build, was watching him with an easy smile on his face and sharp, dark eyes. The small woman at his side concerned him more though. Her stern face said plainly that she wasn't someone he wanted to mess with.

But, fuck, this was the second time in a week he had woken up in a bed he didn't immediately recognize, and it hadn't exactly worked out well for him the last time.

"Who are you two?" He demanded hotly, "Why am I here?"

The woman spoke, voice stern, "Be calm, Kurosaki-sama. As Jun said, you are safe here." A pause. "I am called Rikiko."

"I'm Jun," The man put in with a jaunty wave, as if he could be anyone else.

"Yeah, well…" Seriously, why did this crap always happen to _him_, "How did I end up here then? And how do you know my name."

"You will find that we know much. Now I must insist that you come along with us. You have been through an ordeal and should eat to regain your strength." As Jun took him by the shoulders and half led, half dragged him from the room, Ichigo overlooked the fact that they had not answered the first part of his question.

"I really don't know what you're talking about, but…" He let out a sigh. They didn't seem like _bad _people, just odd as hell, "Anything is good news at this point. After that thing attacked me I thought I was a dead man."

The two strangers looked to each other for a brief moment before Rikiko stepped forward and spoke gently, "But, Kurosaki-sama… you _are _dead."

XXXXXXXX

A/N: Dun dundun! And so you meet my first two OCs. Ever. In the history of the universe. I hope you come to like them.


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